Into The Abyss: A Journey To Remember In Central Laos (Part 7)

This is part seven of the series. If you haven’t been following along with the story you can catch up here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
It wasn’t long before my personal celebration faded into the background and the deep greens and rising and falling horizon once again began to blend into the hum of the aging diesel engine. “We’re almost there.” I said to Bea. “Finally” she fired back, the points of her mouth drawn upwards in a rye smile bred from days of anticipation.

“Kong Lor Village 57 Kilometers” I proudly read from the surprisingly English sign as we chugged on. It was still just shy of noon and so despite our setbacks we were still in pretty good shape all things considered.

“So we just walk up to the mouth of the cave and hire a boat right?” Bea asked in a way that was just a hair shy of rhetorical.

“Yep and then two hours of cold darkness will ensue. You ready?”

“Well I’ve been waiting for a week, why not wait a little longer?” Bea’s response rang as she kicked off the game of sarcastic back-and-forth we had both come to cherish in the idol moments of travel. Before my smart ass juices could rev up though I caught a glimpse of another sign approaching on my side of the bus.

Is this the right turn?!

“Kong Lor Village Next Right” the sign read as we sped past. I decided it was best to forgo my sarcastic return serve and leave my head focused up the road and keeping a keen eye on that next right. Locking my eyes on the turn I started to shift my weight in anticipation of the groaning chariot rounding the bend with abandon. To my surprise though the laws of physics put up no fight. The turn came and went faster than my spirits could sink down below my hip level at a squat toilet.

“I don’t think we are going to Kong Lor Village.” I said to Bea with every bit of life sapped completely out of my voice.

“What?” Bea quickly stabbed back realizing there was no hint of a joke in what I had said.

“Yeah we just passed the turn.”

“Well, maybe, maybe there’s another way in,” Bea said with a reassurance in her voice hinting that she had been here before even though I knew she hadn’t.

“You’re right. There are always two ways to get to anywhere in Southeast Asia and Chan told us this bus would take us directly to the village.” I said as Bea’s words somehow squeezed the doubt right out of me and I exhaled.

When the bus finally decided to stop a few minutes later it did so in what was apparently the Asian version of Tombstone, Arizona circa 1880. As we hopped off the bus I scanned the landscape. A cluster of open-faced, run down shacks lined a few dusty streets. Locals, huddled under whatever shade they could find, stared us down looking a bit confused by our presence. I was certain the evil chef from Thakhek was about to step out of the local saloon adorned in full leather chaps spinning a butcher’s knife at each hip drooling over the prospect of finishing us off. Where the hell were we?

Across the street I noticed a faded sign that read “Tourist Information.” “Thank god,” I thought as I started toward it. “Maybe someone speaks English,” I said to Bea as we stepped under the overhang outside of the building.

“You go to Kong Lor cave?” a voice announced from the back of the building.

“Yes which way is the entrance!” I shouted catching the man off guard with my enthusiasm.

“I take you there. Ten dollars each and we leave at two.”

I didn’t even have to turn to Bea to know the look she was giving me. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Every guidebook and traveler we’ve consulted in the last few days had said the same thing: get off in Kong Lor village, walk to the mouth of the cave and hire a boat.

“We’ll walk,” Bea shouted mirroring exactly what I was thinking.

“No walk. I take you!” the man insisted.

“We’ll walk,” I reiterated and just like that we had chosen a direction and started walking up the road. We’d dealt with plenty of scammers before and knew the best way to deal with them was to get the hell away from them.

As we walked up the dusty dirt road the heat reminded us of its presence and within minutes we were both matted with sweat. We needed to find someone who wasn’t as interested in our money to tell us where the mouth of the cave was. Bea spotted a small restaurant on the corner and started for it hoping someone would be there to help.

The inside of the restaurant was dominated by one huge communal dining table that looked like it could seat fifty people. At present there were about half of that seated around its front end, which was covered with half eaten local dishes and more empty beer bottles than I cared to count. The diners all noticed our presence at once and they all turned their heads to face us in unison. Had we stumbled on some secret meeting? Should we run?

Luckily the answer to the latter came quickly as smiles quickly washed across the faces of the twenty plus men seated at the table. I was the one who spoke first but I don’t think the beer blushed diners took their eyes off of Bea the whole time.

“The cave. We are looking for the Kong Lor cave.” I said trying to get some help and get the hell out of there. The laughs started from the back of the table and quickly gathered steam as they rolled to the front of the restaurant. What did I say? Have they never heard English before? I thought this was a tourist destination! Another attempt proved equally useless and Bea and I turned to each other and gave the “let’s get the hell out of here” nod at the same time.

Back on the street our mood was low. We had no idea where the hell we were and the sun wasn’t giving us a breather. “Maybe we should just pay that guy ten bucks.” I said almost defeated. “What choice do we have? We are going to melt out here.” Bea answered. She was right. We didn’t have a choice.

As we were approaching the “Tourist Information” building again I could see Mr. Ten Dollars smug grin as he leaned up against one of the building’s supports. “Dammit he beat us.” I thought as I ambled my way back to the embarrassing rip-off.

“You want to rent a motorbike?” A voice shouted through the heat.

Signing my life away to avoid Mr. Ten Dollars

Am I hearing things or did that English come from another direction? I broke my demoralizing tunnel vision to follow the voice.

“You want to rent a motorbike? Take you to the Kong Lor cave,” a small grinning man repeated from the opposite side of the road.

“I thought you could walk there. Isn’t this the Kong Lor Village?” Bea got out just before I could.

“No, no, this Nahin. Kong Lor forty eight kilometers that way.” He said pointing in the direction we had just come from on the bus. “Only way to get there is rent bike or pay that bad man too much money,” his eyes motioning to our friend across the street.

“So you rent bike or no?” His smile was somehow comforting. In fact, it was the only comfort I’d felt since I stepped off that bus. I looked at Bea who was shifting uncomfortably trading her glances between me and the foot she had badly hurt in a motorbike accident years before. I knew there was no way in hell she was getting on the back of that bike. It just wasn’t going to happen. “We’ll take it,” Bea said with a waver in her voice. “I’m getting to that damn cave.”
The story continues soon! Check back next week to see what happens next.